Growing up in New Zealand, every school holiday seemed to consist of a car journey to visit relatives in exotic cities such as Auckland, New Plymouth or Gisborne. I would always be in the back seat because Joanna would get 'car sick' if she didn’t ride shotgun (the same way Roops is ‘allergic’ to kiwifruit) and the air would have a citrus tang from the lemons that filled the seat pouches. Mum said the smell prevented Jo from hurling but they seemed more like some kind of totem to ward off the evil vomit spirits. On these long trips up and down the North Island, the one constant would be the ratty looking power lines that would line the route for miles on end. I would stare out the window as the Return of the Jedi audio book played in the background (“When you hear R2-D2 make this noise, Booble-be-beep, turn the page”) and trace the wires with my eyes.
That’s it, just a short memory today. So that you don’t feel cheated I’ll appendix it with a public consumption warning. Don’t buy this product:
It’s called FIFA and surprisingly enough it’s a cereal to tie in with the World Cup (OMG 28 days to go!!!!). In a nutshell; Cheerios in the shape of footballs and it tastes like rancid porridge laced with vanilla.
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